Don't Let the Bastards Get You Down
by rockabillygirl
Summary: a bouquet of clumsy words: did you ever wish for queer, feminist friendly breakfast club fics? well, here they are live, from a queer woc! this is a bunch of drabbles about my favorite brat pack. TWs(will be updated): Abuse, drugs, And remember: You make your own family.
1. Chapter 1

"I wish we could help Bender," Allison says one day, out of the blue.

The entire groups looks at said teen, who's going through Andy's walkman and declaring everything except for maybe three albums is garbage. There's a fresh bruise that's turning a rotten yellow, and he's gained another cut above his brow that's sure to scar. The cut lies just below a bandage Brian insisted putting around his head, because the damn cut Bender has on his scalp wouldn't stop bleeding.

"He could have a concussion," Claire worries. "He's been repeating the word 'garbage' for the last, what, twenty minutes?"

"Nah," Brian pipes up, "He's just rude. 'Sides, Bender's skull is too thick to damage."

"Garbage, garbage, fuck _you_ , Brian, garbage..." Bender sits up and throws the walkman to Andy, who caught it with a roll of his eyes. "Now," Bender says, yawning, "What're we talking about?"

"Of course you only hear the insult," Clair says, smiling.

"Heard you worryin' about poor little ol' me, too, toots," Bender winks, blowing her a kiss. Claire rolls her eyes and mimics catching it, and pretends to throw it at Brian, who throws it to Allison, who throws it to Andy, who makes a disgusted, " _Eugh._ "

"Bender kisses," Andy says, wiping them off.

"Hey!" Bender says, very seriously, "I'll have you know those are _very_ rare!" And they crack up.

Allison lets out a bark of laughter, before flopping down on whoever's sitting near her. It's Brian, and he makes an abortive attempt to shove her off, but she stays stuck and Brian gives up, huffing.

"You're all dorks," Allison sighs contently, and Bender reaches across Andy's legs to poke her in the stomach, which makes her squeal.

"No, _you're_ a dork," Bender argues. He's too lazy to get back up, though, and leaves himself sprawled over Andy's legs. Andrew grabs Bender's hair and tugs on them a bit, but it does no good: Bender has been reduced to a liquid puddle of teenage boy, and simply lets out an exhausted grunt.

"We're all dorks," Claire agrees, yawning. She runs her fingers through her hair and slumps into the crevice that Brian and Andrew make by sitting by one another.

"Oh... Oh, well," Andrew says, before there's gentle snoring from him, too. His head slumps onto Brian's shoulder.

Brian blinks, realizing all of his friends are essentially using him as a pillow. "Guys..? I'm not tired, let me get up... Guys?"


	2. Chapter 2

Bender is _fine,_ thank you, until one day he isn't. He shows up to Claire's house because that's the only house he can find in his haze. Clumsily, he climbs up the side of the house, and he's _so_ lucky it's made of brick because otherwise he'd be screwed with the stains he's leaving. When he finally knocks on her window- is it too loud?- and she opens it, he all but spills into the warm room.

"Bender? Oh, my god, are you okay?" Claire asks. She doesn't whisper, so her parents aren't home. Good. They'd gotten used to the Breakfast Club, but Bender saw the looks they threw him and _Oh, so that's why she had a social suicide._

"I'm-" Bender says, before passing out.

When he wakes up, he's in Claire's bathroom, propped up against the tub. Claire's at the sink hovering over a giant first aid kit and looking unsure of herself.

"Give me that," Bender laughs, but it rings hollow and sounds exhausted. Holy, shit, is he tired.

Claire bustles the damn thing over, carrying it in both arms, and sets it onto the small table next to the toilet, before helping Bender up and sitting him on top of the closed seat. "I'm sorry," she says, "I don't know what to do, I don't..."

"It's okay," Bender assures her. "You should probably leave, though."

"What if you fall again? Or pass out again? Or, you, you," Claire is five seconds from driving Bender to a hospital he can't even afford to _walk_ into, so he pats her on the shoulder until she shuts up.

"Okay," he says. "Okay." Bender begins stripping, taking off his jacket, then his _other_ jacket, then his flannel, and then his tee, and Claire is wondering why the fuck he wears so many clothes until he's sitting there in his undershirt, looking smaller than she's ever seen him. She sees the burns, and the scab wounds and bruises and Claire wants to _hold this boy until he's not_ _ **hurting**_ _anymore_.

But she just sits there, watching Bender patch himself back up. She knows she can do nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Bender deals with his parent's shit on a day to day basis. He gets it, okay? You talk, you get hit. You eat, you get hit. You breathe, you get hit.

Sometimes there isn't a damn reason.

He's used to it. It fucking sucks, but he's used to it.

But the day Allison comes to school with wide frightened eyes and a bruise blooming on her cheek is the day Bender explodes. He asks her to explain, and she looks at him with her big black eyes peering through her black fringe and whispers, "I was just talking, and he whirled around and hit me."

Bender clenches his jaw and marches her over to the rest of their friends. "Watch over her," he tells them. He wants to reassure Allison, but he's never been very good with words so he simply squeezes her shoulder and storms off.

"Bender, wait-!" Claire calls, but Bender's already gone.

The school day is almost over by the time Bender comes back, and Allison and the others are still in class, so Bender waits where they always meet up: the library.

When they walk in a half hour later, Allison is still wearing that dazed expression, like she still can't believe her father actually hit her, but she snaps out of it when Bender jumps up and grabs her arms.

"Two bedrooms," he says breathlessly, so excitedly, "Two bedrooms, a shitty little kitchen and a tiny bathroom. It's the best I could do, and I had to pull a few favors, but I'm not letting you go back there, Allison." Her eyes shine, and she opens her mouth to speak but Bender _needs_ to tell her this. "I'm not letting you become me. I have your stuff packed and everything, and it's in the apartment-"

"Woah, Bender," Andy says, but Bender ignores him.

"-in your room and I gave you the bigger room 'cause you have a lot more shit than I do. Is that okay?"

" _BENDER,_ " Claire huffs.

" _What_?" Bender snaps.

"At least ask her if she _wants_ to live with you, man," Brian points out.

Bender opens his mout, shuts it, and turns to Allison. She wraps her arms around his neck and never wants to let go.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey," Andy says, "do you think, like, rocks can _think_?"

"Andy, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?" Bender asks, laughing. He takes the joint from Andy's hands and shakes his finger at him. "No more weed for you, Sporto."

"Okay, but," Andy tries again, " _do_ you?"

"Christ," Bender covers his mouth to hide his grin. "I really wish the others were here to see this. Mainly Brian."

Andy scowls. "Brian's such a smartass," he says, before he blinks and adds, "I like his hair."

"I do too, buddy," Bender laughs.

"I like your hair, too," Andrew adds. He gets a dopey look on his face and yawns. "I'm hungry. Can I braid your hair?"

Bender tosses him a bag of Cheetos and raises his brow. "You wanna what now?"

"Braid your hair," Andy repeats. He clumsily mimics the motion of braiding and Bender snorts.

"Sure, I guess."

Andrew gets like, fifty thousand of these small, colorful rubber bands and just spills them into Bender's open hands. "I'm gonna give you corn rolls," he says very seriously.

"It's corn rows," Bender says, "And if you do, I'll beat your goddamn ass."

In the end, Andrew can only braid two braids on the right side of his face before eating an entire bag of Doritos and passing out on the floor. Bender keeps them for the entire day anyways.


End file.
